


stay out of the light

by Trojie



Series: the ghost of you [5]
Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M, Overhearing Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Revenge Era, Tour Bus Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 03:16:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8873644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trojie/pseuds/Trojie
Summary: Gerard doesn't plan on listening, but it's not his fault Frank and Mikey are making noise.





	

**Author's Note:**

> (another missing Gerard-POV scene from _could I? should I?_ )

Gerard's expecting it, when Frank goes to Mikey in his bunk after Gerard finally gets the kid to hit the sack. They … kinda talked about it, if by 'talked about it' you mean three different vague and ambiguously punctuated text conversations and one instance of Gerard jerking Frank off on the side of the stage just before the last technical rehearsal and snarling 'fucking take proper care of him, Frankie, or I'll -'

'You'll what? Do it yourself?'

Frank had come fast after that, so Gerard didn't have to dignify it with an answer, thank fuck.

So yeah, Gerard isn't surprised when he hears Frank's bunk lurch and then Mikey's bunk creak. 

And he doesn't plan to listen, because that would be inappropriate, but he does want to make sure Frank is taking care of Mikey, and it's not like he can help it … they're the ones making noise.

They're not making much, though. Which Gerard has to give them credit for. It's only the odd creak, which could be anything, really - Mikey's a restless sleeper anyway, some nights he rolls over and over and over til Gerard wants to smother him with a pillow.

And the odd word. Or hissed breath, or indrawn gasp, and most of them could be written off but sometimes …

There's one particular swallowed yelp that Gerard knows in his bones is Mikey, and before he can derail the train of thought his brain has already helpfully asked if he thinks that's what Mikey sounds like when Frank pushes his dick into him -

And from then on it's a short and fucking slippery slope that ends with Gerard's hand in his pyjama pants.

At first he squeezes hard and tells himself to settle the fuck down, but he lies, why does he always lie to himself like this, he _likes_ it when it's hurting, and soon squeezing becomes rolling over onto his belly and fucking down into his hand trying to move as little as possible because he can't, he absolutely can't, make a single noise.

The creaking of the bunk below is subtle and if you weren't listening for it you might just think it was the bus chassis rolling on this shitty road, but Gerard is listening and that's unmistakably the rhythm of fucking. Slow fucking, too, slower than Frank usually takes things. The kind of tempo he fights when Gerard tries to set it.

The thought strikes Gerard that maybe that's the tempo _Mikey_ likes and all of a sudden he's hitching his hips up, trying not to come right this fucking second, Jesus Christ.

The whispering gets louder, too, just by a hair, and Gerard's straining so hard to hear it, pulsing his hips, that when a word he recognises breaks through it's like being hit with a baseball bat.

'Gee -' Mikey gasps, undeniable, low and humming and it hangs in the air like a single strike on a string, the human voice just doesn't have that much sustain, and Gerard knows it, but it echoes through him, his system doesn't know how to process it and he comes violently and unexpectedly on a choked noise he can't stifle.

His dick doesn't quit, either, keeps pumping into his pjs, probably soaking through onto the mattress too, dammit, at erratic, spine-meltingly unpredictable intervals as he listens to Frank disentangle himself from Mikey and climb back up to his own bunk in whispery near-silence.

Gerard's phone suddenly lights up and he scrambles for it, shaken out of his post-orgasm holy-shit daze by the need to not fucking wake anyone else up.

_cleanup on isle 4_

_asshole_

_no comment_

Gerard considers, fairly seriously, the idea of climbing into Frank's bunk and smacking him in the face. But Frank would probably fucking _like_ that, and Gerard is worn out beyond all reasonable levels by that one orgasm and it wouldn't do his reputation any good if he fell asleep on Frank. Frank would never let him live it down. 

When the rest of them wake up in the morning, groaning and making gross noises, Gerard realises Mikey is still dead to the world.

As in, he's sleeping. Actual sleep. Not blackout drunk or whatever. So when Bob goes to shake him awake Gerard fends him off. 'Let him sleep,' he says. 'C'mon. He doesn't need to be doing anything for at least another hour.'

Bob squints at Gerard and then his eyes flick to where Frank is standing just to the side, and he nods. 'Yeah, okay. No problem.'

Gerard itches somewhere under his skin at how Bob is trying to big-brother Mikey, as if Mikey's actual big brother isn't right fucking here, but the rational bit of him, the bit that isn't a jealous bitch, wants to pat Bob on the back for his good instincts.

They do a driveby for breakfast and Gerard gets Mikey's order, but lets him sleep through just a little longer.

When Bob taps his watch meaningfully, Gerard sighs. Alright, yeah, okay. He puts down his coffee next to Mikey's, and makes his way down the bus. 

Something makes him remember Frank's texts though. Fuck. Mikey's going to be a mess and there's no way to wash properly on this bus. Gerard winces in preemptive sympathy, and then remembers he's got a facecloth in his toilet bag.

He can't take back having been a fucking creeper, and he can't help Mikey the way he itches to, but he can at least do something. He can at least do this.


End file.
